A crowd rushed to the wharf8 to see them fire an enormous flat-boat piled mountain-high with cotton. A dozen bales had been broken open and the whole floating funeral pyre stood shrouded9 in spotless white which leaped into flames as it was pushed into the stream.
Along the levee as far as the eye could reach negroes crawled like black ants rolling the cotton into the river. The ties were smashed, and the white bundle of cotton tumbled into the water and was set on fire. Each bale sent up its cloud of smoke until the surface of the whole river seemed alive with a fleet of war crowding its steam to run fresh batteries. Another flat-boat was piled high, its bales cut open, soaked with whiskey, and set on fire. The blue flames of burning alcohol gave a touch of weird10 and sinister11 color to the scene.
The men who owned this cotton stood by cheering and helping12 in its destruction. The two flat-boats with flames leaping into the smoke pall13 of the darkened skies led the fleet of fire down the river to greet Farragut's men in their way.
Every saloon was emptied and every gutter14 flowed with wines and liquors.
Jennie found her grandmother resting serenely15 in her great rocking chair, apparently16 indifferent to the uproar17 of the town. The household with its seventy-odd negro servants was running its usual smooth, careless course.
Jennie read aloud the announcement in the morning paper of Butler's order to New Orleans:
"All devices, signs, and flags of the Confederacy shall be suppressed—"
She clenched18 her fist and sprang to her feet.
"Good! I'll devote all my red, white and blue silk to the manufacture of Confederate flags! When one is confiscated19—I'll make another. I'll wear one pinned on my bosom20. The man who says, 'Take it off,' will have to pull it off himself. The man who does that—well, I've a pistol ready!—"
"What are you saying, dear?" the old lady asked with her thin hand behind her ear.
"Oh, nothing much, grandma dear," was the sweet answer. "I was only wishing I were a man!"
She slipped her arms about her thin neck and whispered this in deep, tragic21 tones. With a bound she was off to the depot22 to see the last squad23 of soldiers depart for the front before the gunboats arrived.
They waved their hats to the crowds of women and children as the train slowly pulled out.
"God bless you, ladies! We're going to fight for you!"
Jennie drew her handkerchief, waved and sobbed25 the chorus in reply.
"God bless you, soldiers! Fight for us!"
Four hours later the black gunboats swung at their anchors. The proud little conquered city lay at the mercy of their guns.
Jennie watched them with shining eyes, and that without fear. The union flag was streaming from every peak and halyard.
The girl rushed home, made a flag five inches long, pinned it to her shoulder and deliberately26 walked down town. Mattie Morgan joined her at the corner and drew one from the folds of her dress, emboldened27 by the example.
They marched straight to the State House terrace to take a good look at the Brooklyn lying close inshore. Fifteen or twenty Federal officers were standing28 on the first terrace, stared at by the crowd as if they were wild beasts.
"Oh, Mattie," Jennie faltered29. "We didn't expect to meet these people. What shall we do?"
"Stand by your colors now. There's nothing else to do."
On they marched, hearts thumping30 painfully with conscious humiliation31 at their silly bravado32. Fine, noble-looking, quiet fellows those officers in blue—refinement and gentlemanly bearing in every movement of their stalwart bodies. They had come ashore33 as friendly sightseers and stood admiring the beauty of the quaint34 old town. Jennie's eyes filled with tears of vexation.
"Let's go home, Mattie—"
"I say so, too—"
"Never again for me! I'll hang my flag on the mantel. I'll not try to wave it in the face of a gentleman again—oof—what silly fools we were!"
The Federal commander of the fleet had warned the citizens of Baton Rouge that any hostile demonstration35 against his ships or men would mean the instant bombardment of the town.
Jennie had just finished breakfast and helped her grandmother to find her way to the rocker. Mandy had been sent to the store for some thread with which to make a new uniform for one of the boys. Jennie resolved to turn her energies to practical account now. No more flaunting37 of tiny flags in the faces of brave, dignified38 young officers of the navy.
The maid rushed through the hall wild with excitement. She had run every step back from the store without the thread.
"Lowdy, Miss Jennie," she gasped39, "sumfin' awful happened!"
"What is it? What's the matter?"
Mandy stood in dumb terror, the whites of her eyes shining. She was listening apparently for the arch-angel's trumpet41 to sound.
Jennie seized her shoulders.
"What's the matter? Tell me before I murder you!"
"Yassam!" Mandy gasped and again her head was cocked to one side as if straining her ears for the dreaded42 sound of Gabriel.
"What's happened?—Tell me!" Jennie stormed.
At last poor Mandy's senses slowly returned. She stared into her young mistress' face and gasped:
"Yassam—Mr. Castle's killed a Yankee ossifer on de ship an' dey gwine ter shell—"
"Boom!"
The deep thunder peal43 of a great gun shook the world. There was no mistaking the sound of it or its meaning. The fleet had opened fire on the defenseless town. Mandy's teeth chattered45 and her voice failed.
And then pandemonium46.
Poor old negroes and helpless pickaninnies swarmed into the house for shelter from the doom47 of Judgment48 Day.
"Run—run for your lives—get out of the way of those shells!" Jennie shouted.
Her three terror-stricken maids huddled49 by her side in helpless panic.
Her grandmother sprang to her feet and asked in subdued50 tones:
"What is it, child?"
"The fleet's shelling the town—grandma—you'll be killed—the house'll be smashed—you must run—run for your life—"
Jennie screamed her warning into the sweet old lady's ears and seized her by the hand.
"But they can't shell a town full of helpless women and children, my dear," the grandmother protested gently. "It's impossible—"
"Boom—boom!" pealed51 two guns in quick succession.
"De Lawd save us!" Lucy screamed.
"You see they're doing it—come—"
Jennie grasped her grandmother's hand firmly and dragged her from the house. From the servants' quarters came one long wail52 of prayer and lamentation53 mingled54 with shouts and exhortation55. An old bed-ridden black woman, a fervent56 Methodist, raised a hymn57:
"Better days are coming, we'll all go right!"
Jennie had reached the gate when she suddenly remembered her canary—a present Billy had given her on her eighteenth birthday. She rushed back into the house, snatched the cage up and started on the run again.
What was the use? It was impossible to take the bird. He would starve to death.
She quickly opened the cage, took him out and kissed his yellow head.
"Good-by, Jimmy darling!"
The tears would come in spite of all she could do.
"I hope you'll be happy!"
With quick decision she tossed him in the air.
The bird gave one helpless chirp58 of surprise and terror at the strange new world, fluttered in a circle, spread his wings at last and was gone.
The girl brushed her tears away and returned to her grandmother's side. The gravel59 was cutting her feet. Her shoes were utterly60 unfit for running. She would rush back and get a pair of the boys' strong ones. She had worn them before.
"Wait, grandma!" she shouted. "I must change my shoes!"
Back into the house she plunged61 and found the shoes. Seeing the house still standing, she thought of other things she might need, grasped her tooth brushes and thrust them in her corset. She would certainly need a comb. She added that—a powder bag and lace collar lying on the bureau were also saved. Her hair was tumbling down. She thought of hair-pins and tucking comb and added them.
Her grandmother in alarm came back to find her. They decided62 between them to fill a pillow case with little things they would certainly need.
There was a lull63 in the shelling. Jennie's maids rushed back in terror at being left alone.
The guns again opened with redoubled fury. Still bent64 on saving something Jennie grabbed two soiled underskirts and an old cloak and once more dragged her grandmother to the door.
Five big shells sailed squarely over the house at the same moment. They seemed to swing in circles, spiral-shaped like corkscrews. The dull whiz and swish of their flight made the most blood-curdling unearthly noise. Her grandmother fumbled65 at the door trying to turn the bolt of the unused lock.
"Don't fool with that door, grandma!" Jennie cried—"run—run—you'll be killed."
"I won't run!" the old lady said with firm decision. "I'll go down there and tell those cowards what I think of their firing on women and children—"
A big shell whizzed past the house and grandma jumped behind a pillar. She was painfully deaf to human speech—but the whiz of that shell found her nerves. They ran now without looking back—ran at least for a hundred yards until the poor old lady could run no more and then walked as rapidly as possible.
They were at last on the main country road, leading out of town. Hurrying terror-stricken people, young, old, black and white, were passing them every moment now.
A mile and a half out her grandmother broke down completely. A gentleman passing in a buggy took pity on her gray hairs and lifted her to the seat by his side while his own little ones crouched66 at her feet.
Jennie waved her hand as they drove off:
"I'll find you somewhere, grandma dear—don't worry!"
Another mile she trudged67 with Mandy and Lucy clinging to her skirts and then sat down to rest. Her nerves were slowly recovering their poise68 and she began to laugh at the funny sights the terror-stricken people presented at every turn.
A cart approached piled high with household goods.
"Let's ride, Mandy!" Jennie cried.
"Yassam, dat's what I says, too," the little black maid eagerly agreed.
The cart belonged to a neighbor. It was driven by an old negro man.
"Let us ride, uncle!" Jennie called.
The old man pulled his reins69 quickly and laughed good-naturedly.
"Dat you shall, Honey. De name er Gawd, ter see Miss Jennie Barton settin' here in dis dirty road!"
He helped them climb to seats on the top of his load. Jennie found a berth70 between a flour barrel and mattress71, while Mandy sat astride of an enormous bundle of bed clothes. Lucy scrambled72 up beside the driver.
The hot sun was pouring its fierce rays down without mercy. The old negro pulled a faded umbrella from beneath his seat, raised it, and handed it to Jennie with a grand bow.
"Thank you, uncle. You certainly are good to us!"
"Yassam—yassam—I wish I could do mo', honey chile. De ve'y idee er dem slue-footed Yankees er shellin' our town an' scerin' all our ladies ter death. Dey gwine ter pay fur all dis 'fore24 dey git through."
Three miles out they began to overtake the main body of the fugitives73 who escaped at the first mad rush. Hundreds of bedraggled women and children were toiling74 along the dust-covered road in the blistering75 sun, some bareheaded, some with hats on, some with street clothes, others with their morning wrappers just as they had fled from their unfinished breakfast.
Little girls of eight and ten and twelve were wandering along through the suffocating76 dust alone.
Jennie called to one she knew:
"Where's your mother, child?"
The girl shook her dust-powdered head.
"I don't know, m'am."
"Where are you going?"
"To walk on till I find her."
Her mother was wandering with distracted cries among the crowds a mile in the rear looking for a nursing baby she had lost in the excitement.
Jennie's eyes kindled77 at the sight of faithful negroes everywhere lugging78 the treasures of their mistresses. She began asking them what they were carrying just to hear the answer that always came with a touch of loyal pride.
"Dese is my missy's clothes! I sho weren't gwine let dem Yankees steal dem!"
"Didn't you save any of your own things?"
"Didn't have time ter git mine!"
They came to a guerilla camp. Men and horses were resting on either side of the road. Some of them were carrying water to their horses or to the women who cooked about their camp fires. The scene looked like a monster barbecue. These irregular troops of the South were friends in time of need to-day.
They crowded the road, asking for news and commenting freely on the shelling of the city.
A rough-looking fellow pushed his way to Jennie's cart.
"When did they begin firin'?"
"Just after breakfast."
Yesterday she would have resented the familiar tones in which this uncouth79 illiterate80 countryman spoke81 without the formality of an introduction. In this hour of common peril82 he was a Knight83 entering the lists wearing her colors.
He didn't mince84 words in expressing his opinions.
"It's your own fault if you've saved nothing. The people in Baton Rouge must have been damned fools not to know trouble wuz comin' with them gunboats lyin' thar with their big-mouthed cannon85 gapin' right into the streets. If the men had had any sense women wouldn't a been drove into the woods like this—"
"But they had no warning. They began to shell us without a minute's notice—"
His rough fist closed and his heavy jaw86 came together with a grinding sound.
"Waal, you're ruined—so am I—and my brothers and all our people, too. There's nothin' left now except to die—and I'll do it!"
The girl clapped her hands.
"I wish I could go with you!"
He turned back toward his camp fire with a shake of his unkempt head.
"Die fighting for us!" Jennie cried.
He waved his black powder-stained hand:
"That I will, little girl!"
The rough figure rose in the unconscious dignity with which he waved his arm and pledged his word to fight to the death. War had leveled all ranks.
The talk on the road was all of burning homes, buildings demolished87, famine, murder, and death.
Jennie suddenly found herself singing a lot of Methodist Camp Meeting hymns88 with an utterly foolish happiness surging through her heart.
She led off with "Better days are coming." Mandy was still too scared to sing the chorus of this first hymn but she joined softly in the next. It was one of her favorites:
"I hope to die shoutin'—the Lord will provide."
The old man driving the cart kept time with a strange undertone of interpolation all his own. The one he loved best he repeated again and again.
"I'm a runnin'—a runnin' up ter glory!"
How could she be happy amid a scene of such desolation and suffering? She tried to reproach herself and somehow couldn't be sorry. A vision of something more wonderful than houses and land, goods and chattels89, slaves and systems of government, had made her heart beat with sudden joy and her eyes sparkle with happiness. It was only the picture of a dark slender young fellow who had never spoken a word of love that flashed before her. And yet the vision had wrought90 a spell that transformed the world.
The guns no longer echoed behind them. A courier came dashing from the city at sunset asking the people to return to their homes.
Two old men had rowed out to the war ships during the bombardment. They called to the commander of the flagship as they pushed their skiff alongside:
"There are no men in town, sir—you're only killing91 women and children!"
The commander leaned over the rail of his gunboat.
"I'm sorry, gentlemen. I thought, of course, your town had been evacuated92 before your men were fools enough to fire on my marines. I've shelled your streets to intimidate93 them."
The firing ceased. The order to shell the city had been caused by four guerillas firing on a yawl which was about to land without a flag of truce94. Their volley killed and wounded three.
"These four men," shouted the elders from the skiff, "were the only soldiers in town!"
One woman had been killed and three wounded. Twenty houses had been pierced by shells and two little children drowned in their flight. A baby had been born in the woods and died of the exposure.
It was three o'clock next day before Jennie reached home, her grandmother utterly oblivious95 of her own discomforts96 but complaining bitterly because she could hear nothing from the old Colonel who had found it impossible to leave New Orleans. They had not been separated so long since the Mexican war. Jennie comforted her as best she could, put her to bed, and took refuge in a tub of cold water.
The dusty road had peeled the skin off both her heels but no matter—thank God, she was at home again.
Orders were issued now from the Federal commandant for the government of the town. No person was permitted to leave without a pass. All families were prohibited to leave—except persons separated by the former exodus97. Cannon were planted in every street. Five thousand soldiers had been thrown into the city, General Williams commanding. Any house unoccupied by its owners would be used by the soldiers.
Jennie decided to stick to the house at all hazards until forced to go. She walked down town to the post office in the vain hope a letter might have come through from New Orleans to her grandmother. Soldiers were lounging in the streets in squads98 of forty and fifty. A crowd was playing cards in the ditch and swearing as they fought the flies. Crowds of soldiers relieved from duty were marching aimlessly along the street. Some were sleeping on the pavements, others sprawled99 flat on their backs in the sun, heads pillowed in each other's lap.
To her surprise a letter addressed in the familiar handwriting of her brother was handed out at the post office by the young soldier in charge.
The seal had been broken.
Jennie's eyes flashed with rage.
"How dare you open and read my letter, sir!" she cried with indignation.
"I'm sorry, Miss," he answered politely. "We're only soldiers. Our business is to obey orders."
Jennie blushed furiously.
"Of course, I beg your pardon. I wasn't thinking when I spoke."
She read the letter with eager interest:
"Dearest little Sister:
"You must bring grandmother to New Orleans at the earliest possible opportunity. Grandpa can't get out. He is as restless and unhappy as a caged tiger. Do come quickly. If you need money let me know. Hoping soon to see you. With a heart full of love,
"Your big brother,
"Roger."
It would be best. Her grandmother would be safe there in any event. If our troops again captured New Orleans she would be in the house of the South. If the Federal army still held it, she was at home in her grandson's house.
The wildest rumors101 were flying thick. No passes would be issued to leave the city on any pretext102. Beauregard was reported about to move his army from Corinth to attack Baton Rouge.
The troops were massing for the defense44 of the city. The Federal cavalry103 had scoured104 the country for ten miles in search of guerillas.
Through all the turmoil105 and confusion of the wildly disordered house Jennie kept repeating the foolish old hymn in soft monotones:
"I hope to die shouting—the Lord will provide!"
General Williams sent a guard to protect the house. A file of six soldiers marched to the gate and their commander saluted106:
"Madam, the pickets107 await your orders."
General Williams had met her brother in New Orleans. His loyalty108 was enough to mark the beautiful old homestead for protection.
Jennie laughed. It was a funny situation were it not so tragic. Her father and three brothers fighting these men with tooth and nail while an officer saluted and put his soldiers at her command.
Butler's men were arresting the aged100 citizens of Baton Rouge now. Without charge or warrant they were hustled109 on the transports, hurried to New Orleans and thrown into jail. Jennie ground her white teeth with rage:
"Oh, to be ruled by such a wretch110!"
From the first day he had set foot on the soil of Louisiana Butler had made himself thoroughly111 loathed112. His order reflecting on the character of the women of New Orleans had not only shocked the South, it had roused the indignation of the civilized113 world.
A proud and sensitive people had no redress114.
One of the first six citizens sentenced to prison in Fort Jackson was Dr. Craven, the Methodist minister. A soldier nosing about his house at night had heard the preacher at family prayers. He had asked God's blessing115 on the cause of the South while kneeling in prayer. When Jennie heard of it, she cried through her tears:
"Show me a dungeon116 deep enough to keep me from praying for my brothers who are fighting for us!"
The speech of Butler which had gone farthest and sank deepest into the outraged117 souls of the people of Southern Louisiana was his defiant118 utterance119 to Solomon Benjamin on the threat of England to intervene in our struggle:
"Let England or France dare to try it," Butler swore in a towering rage, "and I'll be damned if I don't arm every negro in the South and make them cut the throats of every man, woman and child in it. I'll make them lay this country waste with fire and sword and leave it desolate120."
That Butler was capable of using his enormous power as the Military Governor of Louisiana to accomplish this purpose, no one who had any knowledge of the man or his methods doubted for a moment.
On the slightest pretexts121 he arrested whom he pleased, male and female, and threw them into prison. Aged men who had incurred122 his displeasure were confined at hard labor123 with ball and chain. Men were imprisoned124 in Fort Jackson, whose only offense125 was the giving of medicine to sick Confederate soldiers. The wife of a former member of Congress was arrested and sent to Ship Island in the Gulf126 of Mexico. Her only offense was that she laughed at some foolish thing that marked the progress of a funeral procession through the streets of the city.
On his office wall in the St. Charles Hotel Butler had inscribed127 in huge letters:
"THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A HE AND A SHE ADDER128 IN THEIR VENOM129."
His henchmen were allowed to indulge their rapacity130 at will. The homes of distinguished131 men and women were seized on any pretext and turned into disreputable establishments which were run for gain. They appropriated the contents of wine cellars, plundered132 the wardrobes and dining-rooms of ladies and gentlemen to their hearts' content. Fines were levied134 and collected in many cases where it could be secured. Those who refused to pay were given the choice of ball and chain. A thriving trade in cotton was opened against the positive orders of the Washington Government. Butler's own brother was the thrifty135 banker and broker136 of this corrupt137 transaction.
Property was "confiscated" right and left, provisions and military stores were exchanged for cotton. The chief of this régime of organized plunder133 lived in daily fear of assassination138. It was said he wore secret armor. He never ventured out except heavily guarded. In his office several pistols lay beside him and the chair on which his visitor was seated was chained to the wall to prevent someone suddenly rising and smashing his brains out.
There were ten thousand soldiers in Baton Rouge now though the anticipated attack of the Confederates had not materialized. Perhaps they had heard of the heavy re?nforcements in time. The poor fellows from the cool hills and mountains of the North were dying in hundreds in the blistering July sun of the South. They didn't know how to take care of themselves and their officers didn't seem to care. Butler was a lawyer and a politician first—a general only when the navy had done his work for him.
Jennie saw hundreds of these sick and dying men lying on their backs in the broiling139 sun, waiting for wagons140 to carry them to the hospital. One had died absolutely alone without a human being near to notice or to care. The girl's heart was sick with anguish141 at the sight of scores too weak to lift their hands to fight the ravenous142 flies swarming143 in their eyes and mouths. All day and all night Baumstark, the little undertaker, was working with half a dozen aides making coffins144.
Day and night they died like dogs with no human help extended. The Catholic priest who had not been arrested as yet, passing among them in search of his own, bent for a moment over a dying soldier and spoke in friendly tones. The poor fellow burst into tears and with his last gasp40 cried:
"Thank God! I have heard one kind word before I die!"
The Federal pickets were driven in at last, and the guard around the house withdrawn145. General Williams insisted that Jennie and her grandmother find a place of refuge more secure than the coming battlefield.
They thanked the General but decided to brave battle at home to the terrors of another flight.
The little band of twenty-five hundred Confederates struck the town like a thunderbolt and fought with desperation against the combined fleet and heavy garrison146. They drove the Federals at first in panic to the water's edge and the shelter of the cannon until a Maine regiment147 barred the way, fighting like demons36, and rallied the fleeing mob. When the smoke of battle lifted the gray army had gone with the loss of only sixty-five killed and a hundred and fifty wounded.
The worst calamity148 which befell Baton Rouge was the death of General Williams, the gentlemanly and considerate Federal commander.
Butler's man who took his place lacked both his soldierly training and his fine scruples149 as a Christian150 gentleman. There were no more guards placed around "Rebel" homes.
The marauder came with swift sure tread on the heels of victory.
A squad of officers and men smashed in the front door at Fairview without so much as a knock for signal. To the shivering servant who stood in the hall the leader called:
"Where are the damned secesh women? We know they've hid in here and we'll make them dance for hiding—"
Jennie suddenly appeared in the library door, her face white, her hand concealed151 in the pocket of her dress.
"There are but two women here, gentlemen," she began steadily152—"my grandmother and I. The house is at your mercy—"
The man in front gave a short laugh and advanced on the girl. He stopped short in his tracks at the sight of the glitter of her eye and changed his mind.
"All right, look out for the old hen. We'll let you know when it's time to pick up the pieces."
Jennie returned to the library and slipped her arm about her grandmother's neck standing beside her chair while she set her little jaw firmly and waited for the end.
They rushed the dining-room first and split its sideboard open with axes—fine old carved mahogany pieces so hardened with age, the ax blades chipped from the blows as if striking marble. The china was smashed, chests were laid open with axes, and their contents of silver removed.
They rushed the parlors153 and stripped them of every ornament155. Jennie's piano they dragged into the center of the floor, smashed its ivory keys and split its rosewood case into splinters. An officer slashed156 the portrait of Mrs. Barton into shreds157 and hurled158 the frame on the floor. Every portrait on the walls shared a similar fate.
Upstairs the fun grew wild. Mrs. Barton's beautiful old mahogany armoir whose single door was a fine French mirror was shivered with a blow from a sledge159 hammer, emptied of every article and the shelves splintered with axes. They broke every bureau and case of drawers, scattered160 their contents on the floor, selecting what suited their fancy. Every rag of the boys' clothes, the old Colonel's and Senator Barton's were tied in bundles.
They entered Jennie's room, broke every mirror, tore down the rods from the bed and ripped the net into shreds. The desk was split, letters turned out and scattered over the floor. A light sewing machine was sent below for a souvenir. The heavy one was broken with an ax.
From Jennie's bureau they tore a pink flowered muslin, stuck it on a bayonet and paraded the room, the officers striking it with their swords shouting their dull insults:
"I've struck the damned secesh!"
"The proud little hellion!"
"That's the time I cut her!"
One seized her bonnet161, put it on, tied the ribbon under his chin and amid the shouts of his half-drunken companions, paraded the house, and wore it into the streets when he left.
When the noise had died away and the house was still at last, Jennie came forth162 from the little room in which she had taken refuge, leading her grandmother. Hand in hand they viewed the wreck163.
The thing that hurt the girl most of all was the ruin of her desk—her letters from Dick Welford, the boys, her father and mother, the diary she had kept with the intimate secrets of her young heart—all had been opened, thumbed and thrown over the floor. The little perfumed notes she had received from her first beaux—invitations to buggy rides, concerts, and parties, and all of them beginning, "Compliments of"—had been profaned164 by dirty greasy165 fingers. Some were torn into little bits and scattered over the room, others were ground into the floor by hobnails in heavy boot heels.
Her last letter from Socola was stolen—to be turned over to the commander for inspection166 no doubt. And then she broke into a foolish laugh. The strain was over. What did it matter—this clutter167 of goods and chattels on the floor—she was young—it was the morning of life and she had met her fate!
In a sudden rush of emotion she threw her arms around her grandmother's neck and cried:
"Thank the good Lord, grandma, they didn't shoot you!"
The sweet old lady was strangely quiet, and her eyes had a queer set look. She bore the strain without a break until they entered the wreck of the stately parlor154. She saw the slashed portrait of the Colonel lying on the floor and sank in a heap beside it without a word or sound.
Jennie succeeded at last in obtaining a pass to New Orleans, consigning168 the body to Judge Roger Barton. She stepped on board the little steamer absolutely alone. Every servant had gone to the camp of the soldiers or had entered the service of the crowd of marauders who decided to return to Fairview and occupy the house.
Jennie had gone through so much the tired spirit refused to respond to further sensations. She obeyed orders in a dumb mechanical way.
The officers at New Orleans opened her baggage and searched it without ceremony, or the slightest show of interest on her part.
They were administering the "oath" of loyalty to the United States. She would have to turn Yankee to do this last duty of love. She covered her face with her hands and prayed breathlessly for the boys and for the Confederacy while the words of the oath were mumbled169 by the officer—
"So help you God?"
Jennie's only answer was to close her eyes and pray harder.
"So help you God?" the officer shouted again.
The girl lifted her tear-stained face and nodded, closed her eyes again and prayed.
"Help them, O God,—my brothers Tom and Jimmie and Billy and Dick Welford—and—and the man I love—save them and their cause for Jesus' sake—I don't know what they made me say—I only did it for poor grandpa's sake—I didn't mean it. Forgive me, dear Lord, and save my people!"
The Judge met them with a carriage and hearse. He slipped his strong arm around the girl, drew her close and kissed the waving brown hair again and again.
"Dear little sis—you're at home now," he said softly.
A shiver ran through her figure and she sat bolt upright.
"No, Big Brother," she answered firmly, "I'm not. New Orleans is in the hands of the enemy. I'd set it on fire and wipe it from the face of the earth to-morrow if I could sweep old Ben Butler and his men into the bottomless pit with its ashes—"
She paused at the look of pain on his face.
"Except you—dear—you're my brother, always my dear Big Brother and I'll love you forever. What you think right is right—for you. You are for the union, because you believe it's right. I honor you for being true to your convictions—"
"You can never know what it has cost me—Honey—"
She drew him down and kissed him tenderly.
"Yes, I do know—and it's all right—even if you draw your sword and meet us in battle—you're fighting for the right as God shows it to you—but I've just one favor to ask—"
"I'll do anything on earth for you I can—you know that—"
She looked at him steadily a moment in silence and spoke in hard cold tones.
"Get me out of New Orleans inside the Confederate lines—anywhere—a guerilla camp—a swamp—anywhere, you understand. I'll find my way to Richmond—"
He pressed her hand in silence and then softly answered:
"I understand, dear—and I'll arrange it for you. I'll hire a schooner170 to set you across Lake Pontchartrain."
The old Colonel looked on the face of his dead wife and went to bed. He made no complaints. He asked no questions. The book of life was closed. Within a week he died as peacefully as a child.
Ten days later Jennie had passed the Federal lines and was whirling through the Carolinas, her soul aflame with a new deathless courage.
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baton
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rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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3
seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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4
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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5
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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6
lint
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| n.线头；绷带用麻布，皮棉 | |
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7
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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8
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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9
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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10
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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11
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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12
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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13
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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14
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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15
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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16
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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17
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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18
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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19
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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21
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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22
depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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23
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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24
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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25
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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26
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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27
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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29
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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30
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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31
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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32
bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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33
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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34
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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35
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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36
demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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37
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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38
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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39
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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40
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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41
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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42
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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43
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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44
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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45
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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46
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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47
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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48
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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49
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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50
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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51
pealed
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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53
lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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54
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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55
exhortation
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| n.劝告，规劝 | |
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56
fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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57
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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58
chirp
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| v.(尤指鸟)唧唧喳喳的叫 | |
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59
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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60
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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61
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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62
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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63
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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64
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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65
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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66
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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68
poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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69
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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70
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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71
mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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72
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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73
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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74
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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75
blistering
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| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
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76
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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77
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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78
lugging
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| 超载运转能力 | |
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79
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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80
illiterate
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| adj.文盲的；无知的；n.文盲 | |
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81
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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82
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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83
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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84
mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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85
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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86
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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87
demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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88
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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89
chattels
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| n.动产，奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
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90
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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91
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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92
evacuated
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| 撤退者的 | |
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93
intimidate
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| vt.恐吓，威胁 | |
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94
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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95
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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96
discomforts
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| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
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97
exodus
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| v.大批离去，成群外出 | |
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98
squads
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| n.（军队中的）班( squad的名词复数 )；（暗杀）小组；体育运动的运动（代表）队；（对付某类犯罪活动的）警察队伍 | |
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99
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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100
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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101
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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102
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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103
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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104
scoured
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| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
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105
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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106
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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107
pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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108
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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109
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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110
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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111
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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112
loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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113
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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114
redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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115
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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116
dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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117
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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118
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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119
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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120
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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121
pretexts
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| n.借口，托辞( pretext的名词复数 ) | |
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122
incurred
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| [医]招致的，遭受的； incur的过去式 | |
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123
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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124
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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126
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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adder
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| n.蝰蛇；小毒蛇 | |
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129
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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rapacity
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| n.贪婪，贪心，劫掠的欲望 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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132
plundered
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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134
levied
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| 征（兵）( levy的过去式和过去分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
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135
thrifty
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| adj.节俭的；兴旺的；健壮的 | |
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136
broker
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| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
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137
corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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139
broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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140
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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141
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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142
ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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143
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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144
coffins
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| n.棺材( coffin的名词复数 )；使某人早亡[死，完蛋，垮台等]之物 | |
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145
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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149
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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150
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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152
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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153
parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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154
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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157
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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159
sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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161
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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163
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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164
profaned
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| v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
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165
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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166
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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167
clutter
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| n.零乱，杂乱；vt.弄乱，把…弄得杂乱 | |
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168
consigning
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的现在分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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169
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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170
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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